


The Pandorica Opens

by dancingroses



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Episode: s05e12 The Pandorica Opens, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Whump, The Pandorica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:47:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28723836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingroses/pseuds/dancingroses
Summary: Just a Drabble of the Doctor’s inner monologue while trapped in the Pandorica. Not my best work but it’s only my first published doctor who fanfiction so I’m still practicing tinkering with the characters.
Relationships: Amy Pond/Rory Williams, Eleventh Doctor & Amy Pond & Rory Williams, Eleventh Doctor & Rory Williams
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	The Pandorica Opens

“No! Please, listen to me. The TARDIS is exploding right now and I’m the only one that can stop it. Listen to me!” The Doctor screams desperately as the doors slip shut right in front of him.

It takes only a moment for the panic to set in. He tries to wriggle his hands out of the restraints, but only succeeds in scratching up his wrists and exhausting himself.

“Please, listen to me!” He shouts again, though he knows it’s useless. No one can hear him, and even if they could they wouldn’t listen.

He could feel the familiar weight of his sonic screwdriver resting in his top pocket, and the utter agony of knowing it was just barely out of reach would surely drive him mad. 

Adding to the list of things that were going to drive him mad, every time he took a breath his expanding abdomen would press against the metal bars in front of him, as would his rising shoulders press against the bars above them, reminding him endlessly of the fact that he couldn’t move.

How long could he take it? The Doctor was well aware of this box. This prison. The perfect prison. Even death isn’t an escape. He’ll live forever in this box. He’ll go mad. Of course he will. But how long will that take? A couple of centuries at best, he thinks.

Then it really hits him. Centuries, millenias,  _ infinity. _ Infinity sat in this despicably uncomfortable chair, staring at this despicably boring wall. Alone for the rest of time. The thought slams into him like a bus and suddenly he’s panicking. It had been at least a century since the Doctor had had a proper panic attack.

Trouble about his current conundrum though, with every heaving, panicky breath he took in, his body pressed against the restraints, which made it impossible for him to try and forget where he was.

The only thing he could do was kick the door. It did nothing, he knew that, but somehow it made him feel better. He tugged desperately at his hands, and the longer he tried without any release, the longer he panicked. He couldn’t move his hands, the Doctor, especially this version, uses his hands quite a bit. He can barely speak without moving his hands alongside his words.

He feels his screwdriver burning a hole in his pocket and he wants to  _ scream _ because he is so terrified and so very, very livid. Why must he always draw the short straw? Why is it always him? All he ever wanted to do was save people. To see the stars. And here he was, ready to spend eternity in a box, and he couldn’t even scratch his nose, and it made his blood boil.

He may never know what became of his friends. Amy, Rory, and River, lost forever and he’ll never know why. The universe was disintegrating in front of his eyes. Would he be affected in here? He supposed so. If the past never happened, this box was never built. Maybe he’d get lucky and he and this box would be among the first to vanish.

He didn’t know how long he was in there. Time seemed different. Though, maybe he was already beginning to lose his mind. It felt like at least an hour, maybe two, before a sudden thud sounded, and light began to stream through the gap between moving doors.

And as if his day couldn’t get any more absurd, there stood Rory the Roman, holding the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver with a look of confusion on his face.

The Doctor takes a few seconds to catch up before he speaks. “How did you do that?”

The bindings on his wrists release first, and he yanks his hands out of the way. Second are the shoulders, then, finally, the stomach.

“You gave me this.” Rory says, holding the sonic out towards the Doctor. Still in shock, the time lord pulls his own sonic out of his pocket with his beautiful, moving hands, never more grateful to have it in his hands.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did, look at it.” Rory insists, watching the Doctor in typical, human confusion.

The Doctor manages to remind his body how to move, and he stands, stepping out of the box and onto the cold, rock floor.

And  _ oh _ . He’s free.

Ignoring that situation for a moment, he makes his way towards Rory, holding the screwdriver out and tapping them together. He and the Roman are shocked by a zap of electricity.

He explains the situation to Rory, looks around at the disintegrated aliens, drones out about the whole time collapsing thing, but all the Doctor can think about is that dreaded box. It had been so, so long since he’d felt fear like that. And he wasn’t sure how long the after effects would stick around.

“Rory, how did you know to get me out?” The Doctor asked, still trying to wrap his head around the situation.

“You appeared out of nowhere with a mop and a fez, said you were from the future and that I had to get you out of the Pandorica. Gave me this.” Rory explained, holding up the screwdriver once again.

“Well, thank you. Now, where’s Amy?”


End file.
